<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Sprig Of Courage by Caedmon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974126">A Sprig Of Courage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon'>Caedmon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But today is not that day, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mistletoe, Post-Canon, The day may come when I stop writing soppy, Tree Trimming, they're trimming a spruce tree but Crowley is a pine tree, tomorrow doesn't look too good either</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:02:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale and Crowley make the drunken decision to decorate a Chiristmas tree together. It's great fun, until Crowley finds a sprig of mistletoe. Aziraphale's reaction is the opposite of what he'd expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ineffable Holiday 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Sprig Of Courage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! Welcome to my 50th Good Omens fic! I hope you'll enjoy this little bit of Christmas fluff I whipped up. It fills several prompts for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 prompt list, including 'tree trimming', 'ornament', 'bauble', 'fairy lights', 'mistletoe', and 'champagne'.</p><p>The usual disclaimer:<br/>I own nothing but the mistakes. Those are all on me. </p><p>Kudos and comments are the life blood of the muse. Thank you for them.</p><p>Merry Christmas!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The December air was chilly when they stepped out onto the pavement in Soho after dinner, but Crowley barely noticed. He was pleasantly tipsy, a result of all the wine he’d been drinking at the restaurant with Aziraphale. They’d shared three bottles, resulting in concern from their server, so Aziraphale had used a little blessing to give her peace, then they’d ordered a fourth bottle. Their bill was extravagant, but money didn’t matter to either of them. They paid happily, without complaint. </p><p>They’d been doing this a lot in the last few months, since Armageddon had been averted and they’d told their respective home offices to bugger off. Now, without the fear of heaven or hell’s recriminations, they were free to spend as much time together as they liked - and it seemed they liked to spend <i>a lot</i> of time together. They saw each other a couple of times a week, which was a feast to Crowley after only clandestine meetings for six thousand years. They did all sorts of things with each other: went to plays, visited museums, took in concerts… but they always began with a nice meal somewhere and ended at Aziraphale’s bookshop, in the back room, sharing more wine or spirits. Crowley was happy to do anything with Aziraphale, but that was his favorite part - the conversation and drinking at Aziraphale’s shop. He couldn’t get enough. Honestly, he couldn’t get enough of <i>Aziraphale</i> - just like any being in love, he wanted to spend every moment of every day with the object of his affections. But he was afraid to ask for too much, to chase Aziraphale away. So far, he hadn’t spooked Aziraphale by seeking to spend time with him - in fact, Aziraphale asked to see <i>him</i> as often as he asked to see Aziraphale. It was thrilling to the besotted Crowley. </p><p>Aziraphale was laughing at something Crowley didn’t know, some joke Crowley had told that had hit the angel just right and sent him into gales of giggles. Crowley laughed, too, just because the sight of Aziraphale so happy made <i>him</i> happy. </p><p>The laughs eventually tapered off and he stood on the pavement, looking at the angel. He was so beautiful, the most beautiful of Her creations, with his sparkling ocean-blue eyes and ruddy cheeks. Was it any wonder that Crowley loved him so much?</p><p>“Shall we go back to yours?” Crowley asked, his words slightly slurred, his heart pounding. </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, smiling. “Of course. I have a case of Chateauneuf de Pape we could… <i>hic</i> we could drink.”</p><p>“That sounds like a fantastic plan. Lead the way.”</p><p>They started down the pavement towards Aziraphale’s shop, in step with each other, shoulder to shoulder - but not touching. Crowley didn’t dare touch. He was deathly afraid of what would happen if he ever <i>really</i> touched Aziraphale. It was possible he’d go up in flames from sheer want. It was equally possible that he’d be an instant addict and never be able to get Aziraphale out of his system. Either way, he didn’t think it was wise for him and the angel to have any real physical contact - no matter how much he wanted. </p><p>As they walked, they passed a couple of shops whose proprietors were in the windows, setting up their Christmas displays. Crowley checked them out with detached interest, not breaking his stride with Aziraphale. But it sparked a question. </p><p>“Are you going to decorate for Christmas?”</p><p>“Who, me?”</p><p>“No, the other angel I’m talking to. Yes, you,” Crowley said with a grin. </p><p>“Oh. Well. I don’t know. I never have before…”</p><p>Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Never?”</p><p>“Not in a long, long time.”</p><p>“Well, maybe we should start.”</p><p>It was Aziraphale’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “We should?”</p><p>Crowley didn’t catch his Freudian slip, tipsy as he was. “Yes. I think so. We’re going to have to live among them, right? People, that is. Hu.. hum… <i>humanity</i>.”</p><p>“We’ve been living among humanity for - hic - for a long time, dear.”</p><p>“Yes, but now we’re <i>really</i> living among them. Makes sense that we should live <i>like</i> them too, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose…”</p><p>“Besides,” Crowley said, on a roll. “It’ll be fun. We could get drunk and decorate a tree.”</p><p>“We’re already drunk, darling,” Aziraphale said with a smile at him. Crowley <i>didn’t</i> miss the ‘darling’ in there, and it set his pulse racing. </p><p>It took him a minute to recover his thoughts. “If you don’t like it tomorrow morning, you can always miracle it away.”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose I could…”</p><p>Crowley grinned and bumped his shoulder, against his better judgement. “Come on, angel, it’ll be fun. What do you say?”</p><p>“Oh, alright. I say let’s do it.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Crowley said, just as they turned onto Aziraphale’s street. “That’s excellent.”</p><p>Aziraphale let them into the bookshop and closed the door behind them, then locked it. “Shall we have a drink while we do this?”</p><p>Crowley grinned drunkenly. “I think that would be fan-fucking-tastic, angel.”</p><p>“I’ll be right back. While I’m gone, you decide where you want this tree to go.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>Aziraphale gave him a brilliant smile, then disappeared to the back. Crowley watched him go appreciatively, then set his mind to the job he’d been left with. He finally settled on setting the tree up right in the middle of the shop, under the skylight - because go big or go home, right? - and moved the tables that were in the way to the side with an absent miracle. </p><p>When Aziraphale came back, he’d shed his coat and was just in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, his bowtie endearingly askew. He had two glasses in one hand, a bottle of champagne in the other, and another bottle of champagne tucked under his arm. Crowley smiled when he saw him, and Aziraphale smiled in return. </p><p>“So we’re going to put it here, right in the middle of everything?”</p><p>“I think so,” Crowley said with a grin. “Is that alright?”</p><p>“It seems to me like you’re running - hic - running the show,” Aziraphale said with a grin, opening the bottle of champagne. “Well, go on,” he said when he got the bottle open, gesturing at Crowley and spilling more than a drop. “If you’re going to stay a while tonight, you’d might as well get com- comfo- relaxed. Take off your jacket and glasses.”</p><p>“Alright,” Crowley said, hurrying to do as he’d been bid. When he got the jacket and glasses off and had tossed them carelessly to the side, he turned back to find Aziraphale offering him a glass. He accepted with a smile. </p><p>“Shall we toast?” Aziraphale asked. </p><p>“To what?”</p><p>“To us, and to new traditions.”</p><p>“Hear, hear,” Crowley said then they clinked glasses and he took a sip. Crowley watched with amusement as Aziraphale turned his glass up and drained it. When he was done, he smacked his lips and gave an “ah” of approval. Crowley smiled, then, not to be outdone, he drained his glass as well. Aziraphale raised the bottle in offer and Crowley held out his glass. Aziraphale poured them another generous measure, and they drained that glass, too. </p><p>“Oh,” Aziraphale said, his eyes wide. </p><p>“S’ wrong, angel?”</p><p>“We don’t have a tree.”</p><p>“Shit,” Crowley said. “I didn’t think of that.”</p><p>“Shall we go back out and see if we can find one?”</p><p>“Nah, no need. Here,” he said, setting his empty glass down. Then he rolled up his sleeves and concentrated as hard as he could, closing his eyes, since miracling while drunk sometimes had unintended consequences, if one wasn’t careful. When he had what he wanted in mind, he snapped and then opened his eyes. There stood a beautiful, twelve-foot spruce tree, covered in white fairy lights.</p><p>“Oooh,” Aziraphale cooed appreciatively. “That’s a <i>very</i> nice tree, dear.”</p><p>“It better look nice, if it knows what’s good for it.”</p><p>Aziraphale chuckled, then his face screwed up in question. “But how will we reach the top?”</p><p>Crowley hadn’t thought of that, but had a solution quickly enough. “We’ll do what we can reach ourselves, then miracle the top.”</p><p>“That sounds like a capital idea,” Aziraphale said in an approving voice. “Well, I suppose we’ll need baubles, won’t we?”</p><p>“And other decorations, yes.” </p><p>“Very well.” Aziraphale closed his eyes, just as Crowley had, then snapped. On the floor in front of him appeared a huge box, full to overflowing with all manner of decorations in ice blue, rich red, and silver.</p><p>Crowley looked at the box, then up at Aziraphale. “Light blue and red?”</p><p>“Yes, I thought it might be nice if we decorated with our favorite colors. Don’t you agree?”</p><p>“I think you’re brilliant, is what I think,” Crowley praised. Aziraphale’s cheeks pinkened and Crowley backtracked a bit. “Er, right. Shall we, then?”</p><p>“Yes, let’s.”</p><p>They each picked up a bauble and went to the tree, hanging it on the branches. When that was done, they grabbed another, then another, until they were a flurry of activity, hanging baubles on the tree. Crowley noticed that Aziraphale seemed to be grabbing the dark red balls, and in turn, he placed the ice blue ones - Aziraphale’s favorite color. </p><p>Crowley <i>also</i> noticed that although there was plenty of tree to decorate, Aziraphale seemed to be sticking fairly close to him. As an experiment, he took a couple of baubles and headed to the other side of the tree. Much to his surprise (and delight), Aziraphale followed soon after. He didn’t understand <i>why</i> the angel was seeking to be near him, but he didn’t dare complain. Wouldn’t even dream of it. </p><p>A couple of times, their hands brushed against each other as they worked, and Crowley’s poor heart nearly exploded. They were fleeting touches that he was sure were accidental, but Crowley knew he’d treasure the memory of those touches for the rest of his godforsaken life. </p><p>Then Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s waist to move past him to get to the box. Crowley’s heart nearly stopped that time. It was innocent, he told himself. Entirely innocent, and it was stupid to attribute meaning where there was none. But he couldn’t help the little glimmer of hope he felt. Maybe the casual touches could lead to more. Maybe. It was a slim chance, but Crowley would cling to it anyway. </p><p>Too soon for Crowley’s taste, they had covered the bottom half of the tree in the blue, red, and silver baubles. They took a moment to admire their work - and to drink two more glasses of sparkling wine. Then they peered into the box to find a tartan ribbon in coordinating colors. Aziraphale smiled when he saw it and they worked together to wind the ribbon around the tree in an attractive way. Crowley was delighted when their hands touched several more times. He wanted to touch Aziraphale <i>more</i>, and as he worked, he ‘accidentally’ brushed up against the angel more than once. </p><p>Before long, they had finished with that, too, and took a step back to admire their half-decorated tree again. Aziraphale poured them another glass of champagne, they clinked without toasting, and both drank half their glasses in one gulp. </p><p>“Well,” Aziraphale said, sounding pleased and slurring more than a bit. “I say,  that is an absolutely <i>beautiful</i> tree.”</p><p>“It is, isn’t it?” Crowley said, pleased. “It fits in - hic - here.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked around his shop. “I suppose I should do a little more decorating. It seems silly to have a tree but nothing else. A wreath and a couple of boughs wouldn’t go am- ami- would be nice.”</p><p>“You can have whatever you like, angel.”</p><p>The angel smiled at him, and Crowley smiled back, helpless and besotted. </p><p>Aziraphale glanced away after a moment, and drank the rest of his champagne. “Right,” he said, sitting his glass down. “It’s time to decorate the rest of the tree.”</p><p>“Shall I he - hic - help?”</p><p>“No, you just stand there and look devilish. I can do this.” He closed his eyes and screwed up his face in concentration, then snapped and all the remaining baubles and ribbon placed themselves perfectly on the tree. Crowley grinned up at it in something like wonder, admiring its beauty. It really <i>was</i> a fine tree, and Crowley liked it very much. </p><p>Then he noticed something and smirked. </p><p>“Isn’t there supposed to be an angel at the top?”</p><p>“Yes, well, Gabriel was actually the angel in the nativity, and I’d rather - hic - rather not have him perched on top of my lovely tree. Besides, a bow is more aes - aesth - it’s prettier.”</p><p>“You don’t have to convince me,” Crowley said, a little unsteady on his feet. He really was <i>quite</i> drunk. “That works for me.”</p><p>“Is that all?” Aziraphale said, looking into the box. Crowley looked with him and spotted something at the bottom of the empty box - a sprig of mistletoe. He debated within his sodden brain for only a minute before he reached in and grabbed it, raising it over his head. With a lopsided grin, he said, “Hey, angel, look what I’m under?”</p><p>He expected for Aziraphale to roll his eyes. He expected for the angel to click his tongue, snort a laugh, and maybe tell him he was silly before he poured himself another glass of champagne. They’d both laugh, and perhaps retire to the back room to drink until they were both nearly blind with alcohol. Then Crowley would sober up and go home. </p><p>That’s what he <i>expected</i>.</p><p>What he <i>got</i> was Aziraphale turning around to look at him, sizing him up for a minute, then launching himself at Crowley, throwing his arms around the demon and kissing him hard. Crowley went stiff, his whole body feeling like it was electrified, his eyes wide in shock. He didn’t kiss back, didn’t <i>dare</i> kiss back, and wasn’t sure he’d have been able to.</p><p>Aziraphale threaded his fingers through Crowley’s hair and parted his lips over Crowey’s shocked mouth, sending his tongue along the seam of Crowley’s lips. Crowley remained stiff, still shocked, eyes still wide, his arms still above his head. </p><p>“A - angel, what are you doing?” he asked when his mouth was free and Aziraphale started raining kisses all over his face, still rigid.</p><p>“I’m kissing you,” Aziraphale said very simply between kisses. “And I’d be most appreciative if you’d kiss me <i>back</i>.”</p><p>Crowley closed his eyes, at war with himself, torn between what he wanted - what he’d <i>always</i> wanted - and what was right. Hating himself, he put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders and pushed him away gently. </p><p>“Stop, angel. You mustn’t.”</p><p>“You don’t want me to?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes blue and guileless, his lower lip jutting out a bit. </p><p>“I - I do,” Crowley admitted. “But you’re drunk.”</p><p>“What does that matter?”</p><p>“You’re only doing this because of the alcohol.”</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m not. I’m doing it because I want to.”</p><p><i>Fuck</i>, Crowley wished he could believe that. But he shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”</p><p>“I do,” Aziraphale insisted. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since around the time of Claudius’ reign.”</p><p>“Aziraphale...”</p><p>“Shall I prove it? Very well. I’ll sober up.” He took a step back and closed his eyes, grunting a little, and Crowley watched as the bottles of champagne filled halfway. He knew there were bottles at the restaurant that were filling, too.</p><p>When he was done, he opened his eyes, smacked his mouth for a second, then looked at Crowley. “Now you. If one of us is going to be sober for this conversation, we should both be.”</p><p>“Er, alright,” Crowley said, then he closed his eyes and strained, willing the alcohol from his system. It took a minute because he’d drank so much, but eventually he was free of the alcohol and left with a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't care at the moment, though. He had other things to think about. </p><p>When he opened his eyes, Aziraphale was looking at him with a fond smile. “Feel better?”</p><p>“Uh, yes. I’m fine. Do you remember what happened?”</p><p>“I do, quite clearly. You held up a sprig of mistletoe and I kissed you.”</p><p>Crowley blinked stupidly. “Why did you kiss me?”</p><p>“For the same reason anyone kisses anyone else - I <i>want</i> to kiss you.”</p><p>“Ngk.”</p><p>“Are you alright, dear?”</p><p>“Just... <i>what</i>?”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled. “Surely you must know how I feel about you, darling.”</p><p>“I...I…” Crowley stammered. </p><p>He stepped forward and threaded his fingers with Crowley’s loosely. “You are the object of my affection, of my desire, of my heart. I love you.”</p><p>“You don’t mean that.”</p><p>“I assure you, I do.”</p><p>“I’m a demon.”</p><p>“I’m aware,” Aziraphale said with a little smile. </p><p>“You’re forbidden to love me.”</p><p>“Do you honestly think I give a fig what heaven thinks?”</p><p>“You did for six thousand years,” Crowley pointed out. </p><p>“Well, that’s all behind us, now. I no longer care. I’m a free agent, living this life, and I want to share that life with the person - the <i>demon</i> - I love. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you.”</p><p>Crowley was still processing, his brain struggling to make sense of what he was hearing. It couldn't be true. Could it? But Aziraphale wouldn’t lie to him. In six thousand years, Aziraphale had only lied once - when he’d said they weren’t friends. That meant something, didn’t it?</p><p>Bloody hell, could it be <i>true</i>?</p><p>His face cracked into a smile. “You really do love me?”</p><p>Aziraphale squeezed the hand he held. “Of course I do, darling. I have since, oh, about two or three thousand years ago. We were in Rome when I realized. But in truth, I’d loved you for much longer than that.”</p><p>“I’ve loved you since Eden,” Crowley blurted, then felt his cheeks heat. “Is that - is that alright?”</p><p>“My darling, that’s so much better than alright. That’s music to my ears.”</p><p>Crowley just stared at him for a moment, dopey smile on his face, positively drunk on the feelings of love he felt. He was in love with Aziraphale - and Aziraphale loved him back. Holy shit. </p><p>Aziraphale gave him a coy smile. “May I ask something of you, dear?”</p><p>“Yeah. Absolutely. Anything.”</p><p>“May I kiss you more - and this time, you kiss me back? I’ve been dreaming of kissing you for such a long time…”</p><p>He swallowed hard, his eyes darting down to Aziraphale’s pink, plush lips, then back up to his eyes. “Yeah. I’d - I’d like that.”</p><p>Aziraphale stepped forward, still holding Crowley’s hand, a small smile on his face. His blue eyes were searching Crowley’s face and he reached up to touch Crowley’s cheek with his free hand, his face growing closer and closer. </p><p>“My darling,” he breathed, and the words were a ghost against Crowley’s lips, then the next thing he knew, their lips were pressed against each other. Crowley once again had that feeling of electricity pulsing through him, but now it was a joyful feeling, like every cell in his body was bursting into song. He closed his eyes and sank into the kiss, slowly sliding his lips along Aziraphale’s, treasuring each moment of this. He’d dreamed of this countless times, and now it was really happening. Bloody hell. </p><p>Aziraphale parted his lips over Crowley’s and Crowley parted his lips in return, bringing his free hand up to touch Aziraphale’s beautiful face. His heart was pounding against his ribs, making a joyful noise, and it nearly stopped when he felt Aziraphale’s tongue touch his. Crowley made a small sound he couldn’t help and sent his tongue out to explore Aziraphale’s mouth. He released Aziraphale’s hand and wrapped his arm around his love, putting his other hand on his face to hold him close, threading his fingers through the curls. Much to his delight, Aziraphale wound his arms around Crowley and pulled them together until their bodies were flush and Crowley’s body sang at the contact. </p><p>They kissed for long moments, each of them lost in the other, but Crowley didn’t care. He was the happiest being on the planet - in all of creation - and as far as he was concerned, this moment could go on forever. </p><p>After a long while, the kiss finally broke, both of them softening the loss with lots of little kisses to each other’s swollen lips.</p><p>“I love you, angel,” Crowley said, the truest thing he knew.</p><p>Aziraphale smiled radiantly. “I love you, too, dearest. And I’m so very glad we got drunk tonight. I never would have had the nerve to kiss you if it hadn’t been for the alcohol.”</p><p>“Angel, we’ll drink like fish if it means you’ll kiss me more.”</p><p>“I’ll kiss you as much as you want, my love. No alcohol required.”</p><p>“Prove it,” Crowley said.</p><p>So Aziraphale did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The amazing Quefish made art!! It's gorgeous and I love it!! Thank you, Que!!</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  </p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>